My Jesting Jailbird
by Joker88
Summary: The Joker's mother remembers. A one-shot, Maybe I was the one who gave him the scars, but in all truth, he probably deserved it. I'm ending it tonight. PLEASE R&R!


_**Are these getting annoying, or too much alike? **_

_**'Kay, the Joker's mother reflects, I'm trying to express how the Joker grew up. Don't worry I'm not trying to make him human, that would just completely destroy it, I just want to see him through her eyes, The son that she forgot. It's very dull, not as good as my other one-shots, but It'll suffice...**_

My name is isn't important, if you must know it's Gloria, or Jordan, I can't really remember which. And I realized last month that I have a son. Had a son.

I couldn't remember him, still can't. Well, I get these odd flashes. And I see him on the news sometimes, his face leering at me taunting me.

I can't recall, where we lived, how he got through those years. All I can really remember was the fuzzy outline of a bar and some drinks.

Hell, I can't even remember why I was drinking. But I've been sober for two months now. I have a shabby, but clean apartment up in the Narrows. And I watched the news today, which is why I remembered him. I must've had a boyfriend or a husband then. Someone around to care for him.

Oh, I don't pity him, because I have this one image, clear in my head, of a boy sitting in the living room with a cat on his lap, a smile on his face and one mangled furry leg in one hand. And blood everywhere.

I can hear that cat's yowls in my dreams.

And then I have only one memory, clear as daylight, as though it had happened yesterday. I had dreamed it last night, and I wish it had been forgotten like all my others, but it stuck with me.

I was picking him up from school, or some other such thing, and I waited in the car, watching the kids on the playground. I can't see my son.

I see a flash of blond hair in and out of my vision, young girls playing on the swings, teachers trying to restore some order in the laughing chaos.

And then I see him, he's on the ground, surrounded by the other kids, jerking. They were kicking him around.

I was about to get out of the car, but I saw his face, it was smiling, an insanely happy grin plastered on that young face, surrounded by bruises and scratches. Such a good looking kid, disfigured by masochistic joy, by the feet of the angry children.

I remember driving to the bar, and then it becomes fuzzy again. But his face, so clear in that moment, and he was looking right at me. Knowing that I could see him.

Then it's just flashes of light and color sometimes I wonder if it's the drink or the fact that I was protecting myself from those memories. I don't know.

I don't watch the news anymore, but I hear it on the streets. The latest bank blown up, the number of people killed.

I want him to die, I don't want to live knowing What I've given birth to. A monster. Maybe I was the monster, maybe I was the one who gave him the scars, but in all truth, he probably deserved it. I'm not a violent woman, I'm the kind of drunk who sleeps, not the one who starts fights and beats children..

But no matter how hard I try to convince myself that I am the one to blame, To try and see the human side of him, I see that scene with the cat, and my son's dark eyes crinkled in joy as he rips the limb off.

He's gone so far beyond human, he's a sadist and a masochist, a monster and a willing victim. Someone like that just doesn't deserve to live. I'm his mother, or I think I am at any rate.

Batman won't do the job, his idiotic morals and sense of self-righteousness. He just puts him back into prison and The Joker just escapes again, kills some more people and then just gets pushed right back behind bars.

Damn I need a drink. My cigarette is shaking, and my eyes are becoming blurry.

Does he remember me? Or does he just not care. Is he coming for me?

I've become paranoid, my shrink tells me its all in my head, but Richard, my husband, he hasn't come home in two weeks, something's happened to him. But then people go missing in the Narrows regularly.

And my best friend Shelley, they found her with one of his smiles on her face. But that could just be coincidence, right?

My apartment building blew up, If I hadn't worked late I would've died.

That was a gas leakage and a cigarette.

I'm so scared, I don't know what to do. Part of me just wants it to end, part of me wants to drink myself to sleep and part of me, just the smallest part of me, the one that whispers to me in the dark, is proud of him.

I'm proud of the butcher, the monster, the killer, society's delinquent.

My Jesting Jailbird.

Because he is my son, the one that I remembered four weeks ago, the one that tortures and gets a little more insane each day.

I wish I had never remembered it, Wished that Richard hadn't convinced me to go to rehab. Wished that someone could end my misery.

But no one had stepped forward, no one had told me what to do. My son hadn't come calling.

So I'm taking matters into my own hands,

I'm ending it tonight,

With a handful of small blue pills.

_**hmm...Didn't expect it to end that way. I like killing my characters off, It builds moral fiber. One of these days one of them is actually going to live unscarred and possibly even happily. Ah... But I just love the joker so much...**_


End file.
